The Defeated
by Multikittykat24
Summary: Growing up in a chaotic, unstable country, teenager Vyra Sai was raised with the psyche of a warrior. For generations, the citizens of District 7 lucky enough to be chosen for The Hunger Games are gazed upon with hope and potential, instead of dread, horror, and pity. Can she fight her way to a spot in The Games,or will she fall short from trying to please her victorious ancestors?
1. Chapter 1

The Defeated

My hand found the smooth hilt of the blade. In the frigid air, leather felt exceedingly hot on my bare

hands. I unsheathed the beautiful weapon on my waist, as I concentrated on embedding the intricately

designed piece of metal into the cloth bulls-eye, 50 meters out, that I had placed earlier. With one quick

notion, I inhaled, coiled my left arm, and released, watching the blur of silver and black spin through the

snowy, forested landscape. The knife landed with a dull _shing!, _dead center in the target. A smile creeps

onto my face, starting to pale from the cold. _How can I not win_, I assure myself, _when I get results like _

_this? No one can possibly kill me. Not now, and certainly not in The Games. _I walk to retrieve my weapon

as I continue to get lost in my thoughts. _No one can train as mercilessly as me, _I continue to remind

myself. I sighed. No use in boasting just yet, The Games aren't for another 4 months. As I mull over my

training strategies for what seems like the millionth time, I decide to examine the knife embedded in the

target. It had been a gift from my mother, she was a blacksmith, illegal, by our country's rules. Citizens

of District 7 aren't allowed to create weapons, we have to use those provided by the government.

Anyone found in possession of a unique weapon would be shot wherever they stood, as was the case

with my mother. I have to stifle a sob, because I can almost hear her voice: _Vyra, my daughter, tears _

_mean weakness, and you must never, EVER, show weakness in your enemy's eyes. _I clutch the hilt of the

knife, trying to repress the memory. I try to distract myself with further examination of the machete.

The blade of my weapon isn't smooth at all… Instead, there are thousands of tiny, intricate, etchings,

completely covering both sides of the metal, from hilt to tip. Impossible to see any one design, only a

maze of chaos that somehow still looks sophisticated in the grand scheme. I snap out of it, and clear my

thoughts. _Exactly how long was I standing here? An hour? Two? _I start to shuffle my way back inside,

knowing that I'll get frostbite for staying out much longer. It's a good thing I do, too. As I near the wooden

cabin that I call "home", I can see my Aunt Catherine pacing, nervous. "Hey", I said to her, to disrupt the

awkward silence. "Thank god!" She answers."I know how important your training is, but you been out

there for HOURS. Anyways, you have a visitor" She gestures to the door, where there's a girl waiting,

one who I'm more than familiar with. My face breaks into a genuine smile, something that is extremely

rare from me, as I greet her. "Hey, Johanna".


	2. Chapter 2

The Defeated

She stood about six feet tall, hips casually cocked to one side and her muscular arms crossed over her

favorite leather jacket. Johanna looked pissed, but then again, Johanna Mason was always pissed at

someone. _So naturally, I became friends with her…that was a good idea, _I thought. I immediately

regretted thinking that. She and I had been friends for ages, we would secretly mock the government,

tell each other how terrible our lives are, and when we got to be old enough, we'd even train for The

Games together: Johanna with her twin axes, and me, with my large throwing knife. Johanna sneered,

breaking my train of thought. "Vyra! Hello? Are you sure today isn't a holiday or something, because

you're damn sure going to give me frostbite if you keep out here much longer". I muttered my

apologies, and couldn't help smiling a little as I motioned for her to come inside. Johanna's long, auburn

hair tickled my arm as she strutted past me, found one of our barstools, and abruptly parked herself on

it. "So" I started, trying to break the silence. _Johanna rarely comes to visit me, I wonder why she's here?_ .

Now, it's her turn to laugh, "I know, I know. I don't visit you much anymore, but I'll get to the serious bit

of why I'm here soon enough. First, what do you say to some tea? It's ridiculously cold outside, if you

haven't noticed". Before I even get the chance to answer Johanna, she's rummaging through our cedar

shelves, looking for my Aunt's antique teapot, and the black tea leaves she gathered awhile back. I find

another chair and take a seat as she pours a cup of steaming hot tea for each of the three of us. I take a

sip, and as it burns its way down my throat, I study Johanna. _She doesn't seem nervous_, I observe. _Means _

_whatever she's here for has to mean good news. Right?_


	3. Chapter 3

The Defeated

Johanna looks up at me, and sighs. "I guess I can't torture you with the suspense all day long, can I?" I

don't respond, so she continues. "Fine. The reason I'm here is to get you to train with me, for real this

time. Our chances of being chosen for The Games this year are unbelievable, so we need to make sure

that we kick ass if either of us are called". I stare at her for a solid minute, just to make sure she's being

serious. _For real? _Johanna Mason hardly asks _anyone _for help. That means that she either seriously

admires my gift with knives, or that she's terrified of The Games this year, and truly wants to be

prepared. I have to stifle a laugh at that ridiculous thought. _Johanna? Scared? _This is the girl that was

able to launch an axe with enough force to get it to stick in the copper statue we used to use for target

practice. "Vyra! Can you PLEASE stop spacing out and answer my question?" Johanna barked. I chuckle.

"I don't remember you actually ASKING me anything, but I do think it's a good idea, us training

together." A couple expressions flash on Johanna's face as she hears my answer: surprise, shock, and

happiness, to name a few. "Great! You want to start right away?" She's already dragging me out the

door, so I don't waste my breath arguing with her.


End file.
